The Un-Elegant Desolation of Smaug
by Neocolai
Summary: Smaug determines that the cruelest vengeance against his enemy is to kidnap that which he holds most dear. Too bad he has no idea how to handle the little twerps. Features human!Smaug. No slash.
1. Attacked

Vengeance was intended to be viscous and ruthless, with torrents of fire and raking claws of death mauling the innocent until blood pooled and the city was burned. Vengeance was screams and wails of the dying and destitute, the torment of the living and the corpses of the deceased.

Vengeance was _not_ masquerading on two spindly legs of a Man, trudging up the path of a Dwarven village and trying not to trip on his cursed, clumsy, unelegant feet.

It mattered little in the end; all was in the name of revenge. Smaug would endure the blisters on his toes and the pesky, aching human legs which took years to cross the world even if he would have preferred the wings of a hurricane, limbs like cedars and the scales of a thousand shields to accomplish his task.

Of course that would have been too easy, and so mundane that it made his head ache just to consider the thought. (Then again, perhaps the headache testified that he had caught one of those dreaded human maladies involving chills and runny noses and dreadful sneezes that grated on his nerves, which would prove most undignifying for any reputable dragon.)

But no, he would not allow himself to stoop so low as to burn down the Dwarven village yet again. It was growing tiresome, repeating the same desolate-and-demise process year after year. The confounded villagers near his Mountain only rebuilt everything soon after he destroyed it, and the repetition bored him. He needed better sport.

A delighted, dreamy eyed human girl stopped in her tracks as Smaug passed, staring wistfully at him until he winked at her and caused her to faint dead away. He hoped she had cracked her head on a rock for his trouble.

His goal was not to brain fair maidens this day, however. He had but one target in mind.

"You there," Smaug called to a leatherworker tending his shop. The man glanced up in disinterest, unimpressed with the visitor's ragged (elegant!) appearance.

"I seek a Dwarf," Smaug ordered loftily. "One Thorin, son of Thror, son of Thrain. Show me where he lives."

"Yeah, git out," the man rolled his eyes and waved him away in a most rude manner. "If ye're gonna ask questions, least yeh could do is buy somthen.'"

Smaug, taken aback with the distinct lack of respect for his defined regality, turned up his nose at the leather maker's wares. "You call this quality craftmanship?" he said in horror, holding up a oiled satchel with two fingers as though it might bite him. He sighed in memory of a charming gold threaded satchel he had left behind in his Mountain, and dropped the smelly bag in disgust.

"No, I think I shall find my own way."

How pitifully unhelpful these mortals were. If he were in his usual dazzling, elegant form he would burn their village to the ground. The thought was tantalizing. Perhaps as soon as he had finished his revenge and returned to his Mountain and true form he would make a second trip back just to watch their snobby little faces shrivel into charcoal.

The thought pleased Smaug, and he was so caught up in his fantasies that he did not realize where he was walking until a small tornado of energy collided directly with his shins. Thrice-confounded human legs! They had no right to pain him in this matter!

"See here, you little twerp," Smaug hissed as he picked himself up off the ground and brushed off his (still elegant!) garments. "Let me put it into pitiful human terms that you can understand. Do you realize you have made a terrible, very bad, reproachful, abhorent, unforgiveable _mistake_?"

He glowered fiercely at the dark eyed whirlwind and counted off the means of destruction. He could scorch the little fiend into ash and then sweep him under the nearest doormat. Or he could stomp on him until he was flat and deliver him to the next cat to eat. Or he could just throw him under the nearest cart and allow the horses to deal with the rest.

At that moment he was besieged by the most repulsive creature, however, a blond fury of destruction latching around him as tiny fists pounded into his middle.

"You keep off'a my brother! Mama! Mama! Unca Thorin!"

"Now listen here, you little pestulant nuisance - " Smaug flinched away from the shower of blows, trying to wave the tiny tornado back with one hand and hold the dark haired miniature terrier still with his other. "This is no way to - Now stop that this instant, you disreputable little insect!"

He batted the side of the boy's head, underestimating the fragility of mortal children and unentionally sent him rolling into a wooden post. The smaller pest at his side now began to put up the most awful racket, screaming at the top of his surprisingly powerful lungs even as Smaug held him at arms length and ordered him under no excuse to "Shut up this instant!"

A small crowd of onlookers had gathered and Smaug was not pleased with being the center of their amusement. Let him rend them life from limb and show them the true meaning of laughter!

Alas, he had no time to gloat in his fantasies. "Mama Dwarf" had heard the cries of her youngest and charged to the rescue, a light which defied all sound reason glowing in her eyes as she swung a single bladed axe at the head of the man who dared harm her children.

Smaug the Dragon would have broiled her in an instant. Smaug the Human sensed that now was the opportune moment to flee for his life.

He dropped the wriggling puppy and bolted, "Mama" miraculously catching her young charge one handed even as she hefted the axe at his retreating form.

Smaug certainly did _not_ yelp as the axe flew past his ankle, only his quick reflexes and the Dwarf's determination to maul but not murder him permitting his escape. Meanwhile "Mama Dwarf" collected her young and carried them back into the safety of their quaint little home, and Smaug was forced to slink away with in a most unelegant, undignified manner lest he be kitten chow for those mangy strays hovering around the family's home.

Forget Thorin and his mangy runts. Smaug had time enough in the world to fry them when he was through here. Tiny Tornado and the Terrible Fiend had an appointment with a dragon this night. Who knew; perhaps he could trade the little brats for Thorin's head on a guilded ruby platter. Smaug was pleased at the thought.

* * *

**This was a random, spur of the moment, high on caffeine at 2:00 in the morning inspiration. It actually does have a plot, surprisingly, even if it makes no sense with the actual cannon. Long live Alternate Universes.**

**I do not own The Hobbit or anything associated with it. **


	2. Kidnapped!

He was conniving, he was brilliant, he was dexterous, and he had a confounded runny nose! How did mortals survive these deplorable ailments? His head ached, his eyes itched horribly, and he could scarcely breath properly. A thousand curses be upon this frail human form. When he was through with this little game and satisfied his pride he would burn it to ash - No, that would never do, as he would only kill himself. Perhaps he could find a nice volunteer who looked like himself and enjoy scorching that pathetic human to a crisp. Yes, that would do nicely.

Smaug peeped over the edge of a stone wall and watched as his quarry moved inside the brightly lit hovel. Muted voices indicated that the Dread Mother was still within. The Dwarf whom she spoke to must have arrived after Smaug had made his hasty (elegant!) retreat. Smaug scowled and made a face at the shadow of the newcomer, wondering if it would be more worthy of his time just to set fire to the hovel instead. He did not appreciate running like a frightened pony every time a Dwarf threw something at his head.

A delicate white paw suddenly reached out and pawed at his arm, and Smaug nearly leapt three feet in the air for surprise. The horrid little beast had tried to flay the skin from his limbs, for pity's sake! How dare such an insurgent creature challenge the Mighty Smaug! He would pluck its whiskers out one by one, tear its fur out and use its tail as a feather duster! The mangy little fiend would know his vengeance -

"Mummy? I canna find Mewy anywhere."

It appeared that his luck had taken a pleasant turn for the better. Smaug's eyes widened in delight and he sank behind the wall as the dark haired imp strayed from the shelter of his family's crudely built home.

"Mewy? Fiwi, where's my kitty?"

"Kili, come inside this instant before you catch cold!"

Oh, it was too easy. Eyeing the kitten with distinct contempt, Smaug plucked it from the wall and, ignoring its indignant wails of distress, plopped it down before the Dwarf child... right in front of his hiding place.

"Mewy!" the ragged street rat cheered in a shrill tone, trotting forward and grabbing the poor creature in a strangle hold before it could gather its bearings.

Perhaps Smaug felt a moment's pity for the kitten. Any dumb beast submitted to such torture deserved a brief recognition of sympathy. There - he had offered his consolences, and could now return to the task at hand.

Stooping over the low wall Smaug scooped up the impudent brat which had caused him such trouble earlier on, clapping a hand over the little one's mouth and ordering strictly,

"Not _one _sound."

Dark eyes widened in terror and Smaug experimentally lifted his hand away, pleased when the Dwarfling did not cry out. Excellent; he had sufficiently traumatized the pest into obedient silence. He was so clever.

A pity his triumph could not last.

The moment Smaug looked away a small foot booted him in the shin, catching him off balance so that he banged his long, elegant nose on the stonework before him.

"No! Bad Man! Bad Man! Mummy! Fiwi!"

"You confounded, disgraceful little urchin," Smaug hissed, tucking the Dwarf child under one arm and preparing to take flight before the Dread Mother returned with her intimidating battleaxe. Forget the other petulant worm; he had no time to attempt to use his prize for bait.

Fortune favored Smaug that night, (and why not, for such a magnificent dragon as himself deserved no less), and he smiled in smug glee when the blond child was the first to run out the door. The Dread Mother and her glowering guard were not far behind and Smaug knew he must act swiftly.

Breaking into a full run he swept up the other Dwarf child, taking a flying leap over the low stone wall with the full knowledge that he did _not_ just trip over the clumsy feet of his human form in his haste to get away. The Dread Mother was shouting obsenities after him and Smaug wondered if she did not wash her mouth with soap as mortals seemed fond of using to torment their children.

He was nearly pinioned by a battle axe thrown by the Glowering Guard, and had it not been for Kili's scream of fear and the Dread Mother's terror that her children should be struck by the heavy weapon Smaug might have faced a very dull and un-elegant demise that night. As it was his beautiful coat was torn, (he had liked that coat! They had no right to destroy it!), and his boot lost a heel as he dodged across the rocky terrain and vanished into the night.

* * *

**Short, sweet, and to the point. I love writing One-Shot style Humor fics! :D (Gets me to update faster, too, since I can have the illusion that it will not take as much time to write the next chapter.)**

**This story is brought to you by the hamster sized Muse "Hermit", who runs in his wheel nonstop and invents crazy scenarios to torment Smaug. Please remember to feed Hermit so that he will have the energy to connive new and ingenious schemes for Fili and Kili to carry out against our favorite Dragon.**


	3. Shut It Up Already!

"I'm hungry."

The irritable snuffling from the back of the dingy cave had ceased over the night, for which Smaug was infinitely grateful. It seemed, however, that one form of torment was laid aside only to be replaced by another. Who knew that a mortal could cause such consternation to his pounding skull? He longed for his beautiful treasure trove and his quiet Mountain, where he could sleep the centuries away without pesky little termites glaring at him like he was a foul serpent of the most loathesome degree.

"Find something to chew on, then. I have no intention of chasing sheep this morning."

His legs were sore and his feet ached, and his head felt as though someone the Dread Mother had driven her battle axe through it. Had he realized how miserable it would be to occupy a mortal form he would never have chosen this manner of revenge - at least not until _after _he had the little brats served up on a mithril platter, that is.

Worst of all, he had yet to find Thorin son of Thror, son of Thrain, and his pathetic excuses for heirs. Smaug laid his head back and moaned pitifully. Revenge could be such a bother.

"Kili's hungry, too," the blond piped up again, speaking more boldly as a rebellious light flickered in his gaze. The dark haired puppy poked his head around his brother, eyes welled up in pleading as he nodded in agreement.

"What do you expect me to do about it?" Smaug challenged languidly, laying back and closing his eyes.

"Fiwi" and his brother exchanged a glance, a silent conversation of facial gestures exchanged before the elder shrugged. "Can we go home now?" he adressed Smaug.

"No, you silly little boy," Smaug muttered, rolling his eyes at the Dwarfling's audacity. "Not until I accomplish my vengeance."

A thought struck him, a memory of his first encounter with the twerps the day before, and he peeked out of one eye and inquired, "You said you had an Uncle. Uncle... Thorin, was it?"

Kili's face lit up expectantly, but Fiwi shifted to stand in front of his brother and corrected, "Uh, actually he's our 'Uncle Thorn.' ... Kili's still learning to pronounce it."

More the pity, then. He was stuck with the brats until the real Thorin Oakenshield offered to negotiate. Mortals were decidedly complicated, Smaug decided. Uncle Thorin, Uncle Thorn, Kili and Fiwi, and thousand of other names were mangled in such identical terms that it made his head spin. Why could they not identify themselves with creative titles, such as his own? No other being was named Smaug the Invincible, Smaug the Mighty, Smaug the Wise, Smaug the Crafty and Brilliant and Thoroughly Miserable thanks to this dratted human cold. He had such lovely terms to describe himsef; why did Dwarves have to choose such mundane entitlements?

Something patted his leg and Smaug glanced up irritably, wondering what foolish creature would be so stupid as to disturb his pleasant thoughts. Perhaps he would catch his prisoners a snatch of breakfast after all, as soon as he was finished obliterating this -

Oh. The miniature terrier again.

"What do you want _now_?" Smaug glowered, impervious to oversized, curious dark eyes and a snub of a nose too small for the child's face. It was most certainly _not_ adorable, not in the slightest, and he was repulsed to think that Dwarves cooed so much over their young ones who were this age.

Lower lip trembling in a manner that gave Smaug a dark sense of foreboding, Kili sniffed hard and wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve (deplorable _and_ ill mannered rodent). "Can's we have something to eat now?" the Dwarf child whimpered, rubbing a hand over his stomach as it rumbled loudly.

"Oh, for pity's sake," Smaug growled, clapping a hand over his eyes and pressing the other to his forehead as his headache increased. "Go _away_. Sit in the corner... or do _something_ that I do not have to be involved in."

Kili fell apart at the rebuke, his eyes filling with tears that flooded his cheeks the instant he blinked. "F-Fiwi!" he wailed, crumbling to the floor and burying his head in his knees even as his brother wrapped his arms around him. "I wan' Mummy! An I wan' Unca Thor'n! An I just wanna go _home!_"

He burst into renewed sobs and Fiwi cast Smaug a ferocious glare, but the dragon was too caught up by the disturbance of a Dwarf child weeping in the center of his temporary living room. His face twisted in an expression of perturb, he threw his hands in the air helplessly and demanded,

"How does one silence that thing?"

"He's hungry and he's scared!" Fiwi shot back angrily. "What do you expect him to do?"

"Complain a little _quieter_, perhaps!" Smaug reasoned. "How do you make it stop?"

"Take us - "

"Without endangering my life returning to that Man village," Smaug interrupted, holding up a hand in refusal. Not until he had his vengeance thoroughly plotted, at least.

Fiwi stared hard at him for several long moments and Smaug wondered if there were any brains hiding away in that tiny skull. At length the child said,

"We didn't get supper last night. He won't stop until he's fed."

"Then feed it," Smaug replied sardonically, rolling his eyes. Really, it was so simple even this puny mortal should understand.

"With what?"

By the Mountain, did this twit have no intelligence? "How should I know?"

Did he really expect the Great Smaug to chase down a rabbit and roast it on a stick for the little mongrels to eat? How disparaging a thought!

Fiwi scowled at him, his brother watching the entire exchange with wide-eyed anticipation even as he mustered a renewed torrent of high pitched shrieks. Thrice confound it, the two were collaborating against him! It was not to be tolerated!

"All right, I will feed it! Just _**shut it up already!**_"

Instantly the noise ceased and Smaug seared the youngest imp with his glare, gingerly removing his hands from his ears. His dignity should never have allowed him to admit defeat so easily, but his poor sensitive hearing had endured enough torture.

Besides, meat tasted better when it had more substance than skin and bones. As soon as his revenge was completed the brats would make excellent side dishes, he determined. Let them proclaim their hunger as proficiently as they desired when that time came!

"Now..." Smaug ordered crisply, "We will go down to the village - not your silly little Dwarven ruins; there is another settlement close by. You will be quiet, and you will behave yourselves, and you will not run away. If you do..." he paused for emphasis, casting a meaningful look on each child, "I will kill whichever spare is left."

Fiwi paled and Kili gasped, wrapping his arms tightly around his brother and shaking his head in fearful denial. Smaug was confident that his message had come across clearly - unlike _last night's_ mishap - and he straightened with a smug grin.

"Very well, then; follow me. And not one word to the humans about your parents. I will personally burn down their city if you breath one syllable concerning your plight. Do we have an understanding? Excellent."

He did not bother himself to wait for their mundane replies. Meticulously he removed the magical barriers he had set across the cave's entrance during the night, which had guarded the twin tyrants with the same vigilance as he would place on his treasure ... Well, perhaps a bit less than that, but gold was on a higher level than his future midnight snack/revenge conglomeration.

Fiwi was whispering something in Kili's ear and Smaug regarded him with hawk like shrewdness, anticipating his every move. Pity their minuscule strategy tactics; it was a wonder the Dwarven race had yet survived. Not that there would be many left after Smaug was finished. Perhaps he would take some time and enjoy burning down this village after all. He was pleased with his conspiration and spent the remainder of the long trek humming cheerfully as he contrived all the different manners of extermination.


	4. Please Drown Yourself

Smaug did not appreciate the market square. Bustling humans bumped into him at every turn, his clothes were now dusty and most un-elegant (though he remained as regal and dignified as always), and he had to hold onto both of the runts after he lost them twice.

It seemed his threat had worked wonders on their childishly frightful minds, as the twerps had been terrified when he was forced to search for them on both occasions and had latched onto his hands with surprising force ever since. Smaug was pleased with the revelation; children were so much fun to manipulate. He should have kidnapped one long before now. Perhaps he should keep two or three around his Mountain in the future - it would certainly stave off the boredom for a few days.

"Now, how does one acquire mortal sustenance...?" Smaug wondered aloud, bewildered by the various stands and the hawkers shouting out their wares.

Had he been watching over two young dragons the matter would have been simple; slaughter a sheep or a nice fat goat - or perhaps a nice fat shopkeeper if nothing else sufficed - and serve it to them while the corpse was still warm. Dwarflings seemed to require extra special care, however, and Smaug admitted that he was at a loss as to how to feed them.

"Um... Mister?" Fiwi tugged tentatively at his hand and pointed towards a stall from which the most repulsive smell of overcooked meat wafted. "Can we... maybe eat there...?"

Well, if the mangy mutt thought a pastry that was likely filled with mashed puppy would provide a tasty meal, Smaug would not argue. Anything to allow him to return to his cozy cave as soon as possible.

"All right then - Kili, catch up!" Smaug snapped as the youngster strayed away, caught up in the busy excitement around him. The dirty little rat was sucking on his thumb again and Smaug irritably batted the child's hand away from his mouth. Disgusting little twits; next he would be rolling in the mud like a disgraceful, unkempt salamander.

"Two of those," Smaug ordered curtly as they reached the stall, pointing to a group of pastries already set aside.

The grimy shop tender regarded the children skeptically, pausing in his work as he remarked casually, "Bit odd ta see two o' the li'l folk so far from home. Looking after them for someone, are ye?"

The weighted question was an accusation and Smaug's eyes narrowed dangerously. _Give him a little taste of fire, and see how carefully he will guard his tongue!_

What he breezily excused instead was, "My sister's sons. A rather ... unconventional match on my father's side. We never talk about it."

He received a sharp kick in the ankle and a glare from Fiwi for his lie, and Smaug responded with dignified elegance by nudging the child a little _too_ roughly with the toe of his boot and bowling the Dwarfling head over heels. Let the brat starve for all he cared. No one had the right to cause bodily harm to Smaug the Ever-So-Pleasant and Cheerful and Generous-For-Not-Scorching-Said-Dwarfling.

"Ah." The shop tender nodded with a knowing look and dropped the matter, satisfied with Smaug's answer. Cross-breeds were rare in these parts, but occasionally there were the disgraceful few who were hidden away until the first suitor came along who was willing to take them off their family's hands.

Smaug snatched away two of the deplorable pastries and doled them out to the repungent fleas, who leapt for the food like starved kittens. The shop tender pointedly cleared his throat after a moment and Smaug leaned back to give him a smoldering glower.

"What is it _now_?"

"You haven't paid me yet."

Avarice and unfathomable rage flared in the dragon's heart and a hint of brimstone filled the air. This puny, whiny excuse for a human _dared_ to extract wealth from him? Let it rot in its own stall until the dogs snapped up its bones! Let it fuel its own funeral pyre and its ashes be scattered across the four winds! Let it -

Oh, was that the faint jingle of coins he heard?

Smaug's eyes lit up with glee as his keen ears caught the slightest _clink_ of gold. He could practically smell the glorious metal and he beamed with unrequited joy.

"Give me that which you have in your pocket," he issued the simple command.

"Eh - what?!" the shop tender scrubbed one finger in his ear as though he had misheard.

Smaug's grin vanished and he punctuated dangerously, "Give _me_. Your _moneybag_. _Now_."

The shop tender's calm outer appearance vanished and he slipped a dagger from his belt, brandishing it threateningly at Smaug's throat. "Or what, thief?"

A cold, wicked smile spread across Smaug's features and he looked the belligerent toad directly in the eyes.

"Come now, this is no way to settle an argument," he said softly, charm oozing from his words until the light of rebellion was vanquished from the shop tender's eyes. The fool should have known better than to meddle with a dragon. "Now be a good little mortal, and hand over your gold before I settle this matter with a corpse."

"Anything else ye'd like?" the shop tender said vacantly, his eyes blank and unseeing as he unstrung his wallet from his belt and placed it in Smaug's eager hands.

"Yes, I would like you to go drown yourself in the river," Smaug determined, pouring the gleaming metal into his pocket before handing the shop tender his empty pouch. "You annoy me."

The shoptender nodded pleasantly and meandered off. Smaug hoped the fishies would enjoy their free meal. It would make them all the plumper when he set out to hunt his own breakfast.

When he turned around (ever so elegant now with his gold in his pocket!) he was met with the horrified, wide-eyed stare of young Kili, who watched him in stunned silence before rebuking shrilly, "You stoled it! Mummy says its bad to steal things! You'll ged it from Unca Thordin!"

"Oh, hush up, you twit!"


	5. Children are Dangerous

Smaug did not linger in the village for long. The dust was irritating his already stuffy nose and ruining his beloved coat, and he did not like the idea that the villagers might be spying on him and his charges. Should his kidnapping be discovered too early he would have to rush his bargain for Thorin's pups. Knowing that the Dreaded Mother was still on the loose, that could only end in disaster.

"I'm thursty," Kili whined, tugging on Smaug's hand most disrespectfully and disturbing his cunning plot. "Can I haff some water?" He pointed to the burbling river and tried to lead Smaug towards it, only for the dragon to hastily yank him back.

"No!" he snapped irritably, "You will fall in and drown."

Bothersome pests; he had fed them and taken them for a walk, and now they wanted him to allow them to swim with the fish. Ungrateful little mongrels.

"Der's someone in there..." Kili mentioned in befuddlement, pointing to a lone boot sticking straight up in the air.

Oh, so the shop tender had taken his advice and drowned himself after all! How pleasant to know that his orders held some standing in this rude, uncouth village!

"Well now, we would not want to bother him, would we?" Smaug nodded in satisfaction, dragging the child away before he could accomplish a new form of creative disaster.

Since leaving the village Kili had chased down two squirrels, tripped over a mushroom, squashed a butterfly into Fiwi's hair when he "twied to make him pwetty", and smeared mud all over Smaug's beautiful coat. The fiend was a walking catastrophe and Smaug was actively considering returning the Tiny Terror to its hovel and keeping only the blond for his bargaining chip.

Then again, the Dread Mother might be twice as viscious if one of her brood was returned without the other, and a spare would come in handy if he accidently dropped one over the cliff...

Perhaps he would wait a few more days. It could hardly prove dangerous, after all. The Dwarflings were only -

"Khazâd! Baruk Khazâd!"

One small booted foot launched out and smote the air before Smaug, Kili's wild cheers sending him into a panicked attempt to protect his sensitive ears as another badly aimed kick struck him in the calf. Kili snatched up a large stick from the ground and waved it at an unseen foe, smacking Smaug's ever-so-elegant nose and nearly poking his eye out in the process.

"Thtop id!" Smaug snarled, grabbing the child's stick and tossing it away with one hand while holding onto his poor, bleeding (but still elegant!) nose with the other.

Devestating silence hushed the children at once. Smaug blinked back water from his eyes (was this that same abusive reaction that the littlest brat used whenever he wanted to act particularly spoilt?), and shook his head to absolve the pain before chastising in a muffled voice,

"You dithpicable mordal! You minsthcule, deplorable wredch! I am going do kill your Uncle Dorn!" he chastised, dragging the Tiny Terror away by collar.

"He didn't mean it!" Fiwi cried out, yanking at Smaug's arm and pleading for his brother's life. "Don't hurt him for it, please!"

"Shuddup," Smaug growled, too occupied with his sore nose to listen to the twerp's troubles.

This was definitely not worth the price of vengeance.

...

**Before anyone worries, no Fili or Kili's were harmed in the making of this story. Smaug has more ... irrational and rather unconventional... methods of disciplining pesky little dwarves. ;)**


	6. Shelved

"You will sid dhere undil you learn do behave," Smaug lectured with a scowl, wiggling the rickety shelf experimentally before nodding in satisfaction. He had never tried his hand at carpentry before, and the pegs holding the board to the cave wall looked ready to splinter at any moment, but if the little fiend fell and broke his skull it would only be deserved.

Kili huddled against the wall, knees drawn up to his chest and large, forlorn eyes peeking sorrowfully at the angry dragon - his only source of salvation from this dreadful precipice. "Pwease, can I come down?" he whispered in a faint, terror stricken voice, his eyes darting between the end of the shelf and the ground far below. "I pwomise I won't do it again!"

Smaug regarded the twerp disdainfully before shaking his head. "No. Nod undil your Uncle gives me Dorin's head."

If ever an owl could look pitiful, it would be the wretch sitting before him. Kili gazed at him with horror, eyes flooding with tears, before he pillowed his head in his arms and keened a high pitched, wrending sound that would have torn the heart of any mortal foolish enough to underestimate the child's powers of manipulation.

Smaug, however, was no fool, and he determined to ignore the pesky brat. Wiping rock dust and splinters from his hands he hummed pleasantly in triumph, making a face when the vibration in his throat agitated his swollen nose.

He turned about with the full intention of leaving the little mongrel perched on the shelf and therefore out of the way until his vengeance was completed, only to meet with a troublesome pest of a different sort.

Fiwi glowered up at the Dragon, all fear vanished from his fiery blue eyes. His stance was that of many Dwarven warriors Smaug had encountered (and immediately devoured, though that was of no importance at the moment), with his arms were crossed and his chin tilted high in defiance. Smaug sighed long sufferingly and rolled his eyes. Children these days; they had no proper upbringing. Imagine, such behavior when standing in the presence of the Magnificent and Terrible Smaug! It would not be tolerated.

"A descrete bow at the knees will suffice," Smaug hinted snidely, raising one elegant eyebrow in the way he observed mortal females doing when they wanted something accomplished.

"Kili's scared of heights," Fiwi stated boldly, all common sense fleeing his pitiful, tiny brain. "You can't leave him up there!"

"Have we nod already esdablished that your miniscule opinion has no influence in my presence?" Smaug drawled, striding away confidently and ignoring the scathing glare shot at his back.

"He'll start crying again!"

"Led him weep," Smaug scoffed.

He glanced about the room, set on ignoring the twerp. He really should remodel his cave, now that he thought about it. One battered shelf was hardly decorative; not when compared to the lusterous chests of gold and jewel studded vessels, the harps strung with silver and enchanting, shimmering artifacts of mithril back in his Mountain. Smaug had but one bag of dented gold coins in his pocket. It was a start, but it was not enough. Not when there were all sorts of pleasant shopkeepers just begging for him to "benevolently acquire" their purses.

The blond hurricane darted forward and grabbed Smaug's hand, glaring ferociously up at the Dragon as he proclaimed emphatically, "My brother's _scared_ of heights! You can't leave him up there alone!"

As though to confirm Fiwi's statement Kili began sobbing in earnest, both arms wrapped securely around around his head as though to hide from the precarious nightmare. Smaug threw his hands in the air with a befuddled expression.

"Whad? Do you expect me do remedy the situation every dime he stards bawling? I am dired of pampering mopey puppies who cannod hear the word 'No' without snivelling dheir heads off!"

Fiwi shrank back at Smaug's tyrade, twisting his hands behind his back and biting his lip nervously. As silence fell he mustered up his courage and pleaded quietly, "Can I sit next to him then? So he won't be so alone?"

Smaug opened his mouth to object, and then clamped it shut as he realized he had been presented with a marvelous method of keeping two ignorant mosquitoes out of the way.

"Fine," he snapped huskily, cursing his ill mannered cold for betraying his eloquent voice in such an unconventional, inelegant manner. "You can sid up dhere with your brother, but _no _more requests after dhat!"

Fiwi nodded compliantly and held up his arms, expecting Smaug to lift him onto the high shelf. For a moment the Dragon glowered at him. This was supposed to be punishment! The child should be weeping and cowering in dread, not beaming as though Smaug had just handed him a treat!

"Mordals," the Dragon grumbled, roughly scooping up the Dwarfling and depositing him next to his brother.

Kili's fear abruptly vanished and he scooted closer with more speed than any child had the right to move. The brothers wound their arms tightly around one another and Kili glared daggers at Smaug, daring him to tear them apart.

Smaug did not bother wasting his time returning the stare. His work was finished for this morning, and he whirled on his heel to find a way to amuse himself. Whistling off key, he merrily tossed a handful of coins in the air and lined them up on a flat stone one by one. He proceeded to stack them, then balance them on their sides, then built a miniature scale of his Mountain, and finally piled them together and slipped them one by one back into his pocket.

Hm. Twenty minutes of counting and he was already bored. He needed more gold.

"Can I help?" Kili asked in an irritatingly cheerful voice which grated on Smaug's nerves.

"Hush, Kili," Fiwi hissed.

"Your brother is right, do hush," Smaug agreed, before letting out an explosive sneeze. A tendril of flame licked the floor and Kili's eyes widened.

"You bweathed-ed fire," he said in awe. "Are you sick? Mummy says that we hafta stay inside when we're sick, an - "

"By the Moundain, do you ever shuddup?" Smaug groaned, plastering a hand across his forehead.

Fiwi immediately elbowed his brother into silence. Kili blinked for a moment. He tapped his foot up and down. He searched the bare space of the cave for a moment and yawned.

Smaug tried desperately to ignore the brat, lying back against the cave wall and closing his eyes. Who knew that mortal bodies were so frail even a Dragon would require sleep? How despairing a thought! Still, perhaps he would dream of that wretched Thorin sizzling in Erabor, failing in his foolhardy attempt to hold a claim to _his_ mountain. Smaug was pleased with the notion.

"Can we haff something to eat?"

Smaug nearly leapt a foot in the air as visions of Thorin's charred body were shattered at the noise. He growled in agitation and clutched his head, proclaiming a thousand curses upon the imp and his children's children to the fortieth generation.

"You already ate three hours ago," Smaug muttered, forcibly restraining himself from slaughtering his bargaining chips.

"But that was _hours_ ago!" Kili whined petulantly. "We're hungwy again!"

Thrice confound it, what did it take to have a single hour of peace?! "Then starve! I am nod returning to the village undil I condact your Uncle!"

"You'll get Uncle Thorn-en?" Kili yelped in glee.

"No! I will ged _one hour_ of sleep, and dhen - and only dhen - I will feed you! Now shuddup and leave me in peace!"

Like a gaping fish Kili instantly clapped his mouth shut and snuggled against Fiwi. Then he twitched. He wriggled uncomfortably. He opened his mouth as though to say something, and eventually thought better of it. He began to tap his foot.

Watching out of one slit eyelid, Smaug finally moaned and struggled to his feet. There was no rest for innocent Dragons who only wanted a simple dose of elegant revenge.

"Fine. I will feed you, and dhen you will _go to sleep_. I shall be very angry with you otherwise, so do nod try my patience!"

Kili grinned expectantly and Fiwi clapped a hand over his little brother's mouth, nodding in agreement with Smaug's terms. The Dragon grumbled under his breath and scrubbed a hand over his face, returning the wards to his front door before stumbling into the too-bright sunlight.

He would kill Thorin when this was over.

* * *

**I caught Smaug's cold, thrice confound it. **

**Review to feed tiny Hermit the hamster-muse! **


	7. Story Time

Smaug carefully pinned two elegant fingers over his nose as he held the rucksack carrying two stale meat pies before him. The scrawny wench with the red-rimmed eyes, no doubt mourning her father's unexpected passing, had given them to him free for so much as glancing her way. A shame she did not have any spare change with her; Smaug was certain she would gladly have given him every last cent she had inherited had he requested it.

A whiff of the repulsive odor of the bag's contents had caused Smaug's stomach to reel in disgust. What revolting slop mortals ate! It was astounding that they lived as long as they did considering their inadequate diets. No wonder the Dwarves' growth was stunted.

At least his path of revenge would soon be at hand. Smaug had left an "anonymous comment" regarding the matter of two missing children and their marvelous, regal, ever-so-elegant captive - (erm, _Captor_, he meant Captor) - who demanded the head of Thorin Oakenshield in exchange for the pestulant insects' miserable lives. Smaug practically danced into his cave, gleefully memorizing his plan of action. Oh, yes; it was perfect. It was ingenious. It was a concept of pure bliss which could only have come from the Illustrious Smaug.

It was absolute ... Catasrophe.

"It bwoke," Kili stated innocently from his position on the floor, pointing to the smashed remains of the shelf scattered around him. His attempts to appear naiive were foiled as his eyes darted back and forth convictingly.

"How could you... You little fiend!" Smaug whispered, horrified by the cataclysmic state of his beloved cave.

Kili's boots had been thrown haphazardly across the room, where Fiwi was currently slouched trying to work free the knotted laces, occasionally pausing to rub a large bump on his forehead which he likely had acquired in the tumble. The shelf Smaug had haphazardly crafted had shattered into a million pieces, (a million, he was certain of it!), two larger sections apparently having been used for sword fighting as testified by the splinters driven sparatically into Kili's hands.

Fiwi glanced up in uncertainty, whipping his head back and forth and blinking hard as though to clear his vision. While his brother remained discretionarily silent, however, Kili had no sense of decorum.

"Yay!" the imp cheered, running forward and trodding on Smaug's elegant boots while he leapt for the bag in the Dragon's hand. "Do we get tah eat now?"

Suddenly Smaug had the most devious, malevolent scheme to get back at Thorin. He merely had to leave the troublesome wargs on his front doorstep, and then Thorin would have not only the Dread Mother striving to chop his head off, but the two tyrants would make his every waking moment a nightmare. Oh, yes; Thorin would rue the day he ever set foot in Smaug's mountain.

"_Off_!" Smaug ordered curtly, pointing for Kili to back away from his illustrious toes. "I just washed these."

He rubbed the fine leather of his boots against his pant legs, wiping away imaginary dirt before dropping the bag of food in front of the annoying puppy. Kili leapt on it at once, scarfing down one of the pies even as he handed the other to his brother. Fiwi glanced at it and shook his head, however, wincing at the action before shoving Kili's shoes away and rubbing at his eyes once more.

"Aren'tya hungry?" Kili's forehead creased in concern. Fiwi shook his head and forced a smile, but the youngest pest was not to be put off. Plopping to his knees beside his brother, Kili pressed two hands against the blond's forehead, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"I think he's sick," Kili declared to Smaug. His childish certainty would have been a dire warning in itself even if Fiwi's eyes had not rolled back in his head at that moment.

The signs were not lost to Smaug, and though he knew little of the petty illnesses which claimed so many mortals' lives, he recognized that his bargaining tool was in jeopardy of hurling all over his neat cave floor.

"No! None of that!" Smaug's eyes widened and he leapt forward in an instant, grabbing the blond Dwarfling and holding him at arm's length as he raced outside. Fiwi moaned and grasped his head in his hands, squinting even in the waning sunlight. He stumbled to his hands and knees the instant Smaug put him down, coughing up bile and shuddering as though with a fever.

Smaug had jumped back a safe distance and watched in digusted anxiety, flexing one hand spastically as he wondered if his trade would work just as well with one child instead of two. A warm, sticky hand grabbed his own and Smaug muffled an indignant squeak, (_indignant,_ he declared - the Great Smaug was not frightened like a silly mouse by the unexpected presence of a mortal!), scowling down at worried brown eyes as Kili clung to the Dragon's arm for comfort.

"Is'se okay?" Kili whispered in a panic stricken voice, tugging on Smaug's hand and pointing towards Fiwi as though to say, _'Well? Go check on him!'_

Fiwi's stomach upheavels had ceased in the meantime, and he wearily wiped his sleeve across his mouth before leaning back against the cave entrance and closing his eyes. Smaug was torn for an instant, weighing the potential threat of the child being sick again and soiling his favorite coat against the odds of losing his spare bargaining chip. If either abhorent tadpole was to die, he would prefer it be the mangy mutt who was practically suspended off his wrist.

Gingerly stepping forward, Smaug tapped Fiwi's shoulder with one finger and jumped back a little, waiting for any indication that the sickness would either continue or was past. Fiwi merely groaned and curled into himself, and Kili booted Smaug lightly in the ankle to encourage him to act. Too worried about his vengeance falling short to properly whack the twit over the head, Smaug tentatively scooped up the blond fiend and stood helplessly for a moment, uncertain what to do next.

Luckily for him, little Kili was adamant that he knew e_xactly_ how to take care of his brother. "Inside," he ordered, patting Smaug on the arm and pulling his sleeve to make him follow along.

What a rude child. No self-respecting Dragon should allow himself to be issued about by any ungrateful brat! Nonetheless Smaug found himself following against his will, and he admitted with a shiver of horror that Dwarven children - particularly malevolent puppies with eyes that watered all too often and seemed to take up their entire face - had a source of enchantment more fearful and potent than any he had ever seen. It was a dire revelation to consider, and one which Smaug determined to study with meticulous care. It would bode ill for his majestic dignity should Thorin discover this deadly weapon and send an army of children after -

No. That was too ludicrous and humiliating a prospect to even consider. Smaug would just have to squash the little insect leading him inside before the catasrophe grew beyond his control.

"Sit here," Kili indicated, clumsily falling into a cross legged position and thumping the ground beside him.

Inexplicably muted and horrified by the prospect, Smaug did as he was told. Hastily he shook his head and forced himself to be rational. "Do not think this will end in your favor, brat," he hissed.

As soon as 'Fiwi' was out of danger he would kill the spare. There was no other way around it. Clearly the youngest mongrel was a wizard of the deadliest kind. His ruling was subtle and cataclysmic, with pitiful whimpers and sheer determination obtaining him his every heart's desire. Any second now and Smaug would be handing over his beloved gold, and _that_ was where he would draw the line.

The little pest must die. There was no other way around it.

Kili had gathered two fragments of wood from Smaug's broken shelf in the meantime, and had stacked them haphazardly against one another. Nodding in pride he tugged on Smaug's sleeve and pointed to the wood.

"Bweathe fire."

"What do you think I am, a walking forge?" Smaug rebuked sardonically. "The answer is _no._ You want a fire, you steal one yourself."

Even when facing down the snivelling tyrant, a Dragon had his limits. Smaug would not sacrifice his dignity even for one blessed second of appeasing the evil one's wrath.

Glowering with all of his tiny-Dwarf might, Kili folded his arms and challenged Smaug with his gaze. Smaug laid Fiwi aside and mimicked the stance, snarling in defiance and refusing to be cowed. Fiwi glanced between the two uncertainly for a moment, and finally rolled his eyes and leaned back against the cave wall.

"Make fire!" Kili finally insisted, pointing forcefully at the two sticks.

"Make it yourself!" Smaug retorted. "Stubborn, insolent twit!"

"You're a bad, bad man!"

"You are nothing but a spoiled child!" Smaug huffed in triumph, spinning around so that his back was to Kili. He folded his arms over his knees and rested his chin on his forearms, knowing that he was most certainly _not_ sulking like some petty mortal.

Kili twisted his face in a rude expression and copied Smaug's pose, refusing to speak to the sullen Dragon. The two might have sat there all night had Fiwi not decided to interfere.

"Can I go to sleep now? Fire or no fire, I'm really tired and all you're doing is keeping me awake."

Kili melted at once into a pathetically helpful puppy, wriggling up to his brother's side and pulling Fiwi's arm securely around himself. He yawned cavernously, and though it was no comparison to a Dragon's maw Smaug was impressed.

He was more astounded that Fiwi had calmed his hurricane of a brother so easily, and he determined that his next study would be in how to control the beast which could control the more fearsome beast. Should he have these twin terrors guarding his Mountain he would never have to set foot outside to defend it again! Perhaps his boredom would come in far lesser increments, for that matter. Maybe his revenge against Thorin could wait ... just for a little while - until the tiny rat terrier created some new disaster that ruined Smaug's perfect and cheerful life.

"Can you sing us a song?" Kili pleaded in a sleepy voice, his eyelids drooping half shut even as he struggled to stay awake.

Fire and ashes, what would they think of next?

"Dragons do not _sing_," Smaug sneered. "We are far too regal for such ill reputable noises."

"You're a dwagon?" Kili sat up at once, his eyes round and huge in his excitement.

"Kili, go to sleep," Fiwi muttered.

"Can you tell us a stowy?" Kili asked in a loud whisper, putting his finger to his lips for silence and momentarily watching Fiwi with concern. "A stowy about dwagons?"

"I have no time for such nonsense," Smaug dismissed.

"But we canna sweep without a stowy!" Kili argued, his voice teetering on the edge of a wail. "Pwease?

"Just give 'im one story," Fiwi moaned, leaning his cheek against Kili's head and pinching his brother's wrist lightly in an order for him to be silent. "He won't shut up otherwise."

"What gives you the impression he will be silent even if I do tell him a tale?" Smaug quipped.

"Pweeeease!" Kili cajolled endearingly, his eyes lit up with anticipation as he wriggled forward and accidentally dumped Fiwi onto his side.

"Ow! You little twerp...!" Fiwi yowled, rubbing his head and squeezing his eyes tightly shut against nausea.

"Oh, for goodness sake - sit still!" Smaug ordered sharply as he grabbed Kili by the back of his shirt collar and sat down, stretching out his confoundedly long human legs and dumping the child beside him. He straightened Fiwi against the wall on his opposite side, making sure the children were well separated and not in danger of agitating his poor, abused ears with their shrill arguing any longer.

"Stowy?" Kili piped up brightly.

By the Mountain, the brat was impossible to dissuade.

"_Only_ if you swear to go to sleep right afterwards, or else I shall hang you outside my cave until morning and let the robins endure your squalling nonsense."

Kili accepted the compromise with a cheerful nod and snuggled under Smaug's arm, only to be determinedly pushed away several feet. Dragons certainly do _not_ snuggle, and Smaug was risking life, limb and dignity as it was. Undettered, the child wriggled back into position and peered up with bright, curious eyes, completed at ease despite Smaug's fearsome scowl. Once more he was shoved out of the cheerful circle of not-so-welcome-friends. This time he stayed put, slumping with a reproachful frown and trailing a finger in the dust of the cave.

Smaug snorted, pleased to be rid of the impetuous flea, and searched his genius mind for the most awful, disparaging children's story he could use to properly horrify the despicable fiends.

"Once there was a very selfish and detrimental Dwarf named Thorin," Smaug began, earning two gasps of surprise from his listeners. He beamed in satisfaction and continued in a light tone, "Now, Thorin was a very nasty Dwarf, and he had a lot of treasure which he kept all to himself. He was most selfish, you see, and he did not want to share.

"One day a magnificent, elegant Dragon named Smaug asked him for his gold and gems, and the miserable old $^&#…" (Here Smaug used a dragon explicative that the Dread Mother would have slapped him with a rolling pin for), "…Instead pointed an unpleasant sharp thing in the Dragon's face and ordered him to _go away. _So Smaug the Clever and Stupendous took initiative of the situation and stole all Thorin's wonderful treasure, and he was very, very happy for a long time.

"Then Smaug got bored. Thorin the ever despicable ^& &$, !*%*$, !%*$#$*%!%#^* $%…" (The children's eyes grew ever rounder at the foul terms spewing forth in Smaug's tale), "…Had been most rude to him, after all, and Smaug the Wise and Marvelous decided that such an outrage should be punished. So he left his beautiful mountain in Erabor and set out to seek vengeance upon his enemy."

"Did he get it?" Kili piped up in unrequited horror.

"Sadly, no," Smaug deadpanned, casting the Dwarfling a look of disgust. Somehow the brat had slid under his arm again and was now clinging to his elbow in a death grip. "Because just when he thought his vengeance was certain, two annoying little twerps jumped on him and thwarted his attempt. Now he is stuck babysitting said tyrants until he finds a proper method to return them and seek his true manner of revenge. The End. Now go to sleep."

"Can you tell us 'nother stowy?" Kili begged.

"NO!" Smaug bellowed, fed up with inconceivable, irreputable infants who refused all proper manner of order. "You will sleep and you will be silent, and you will not speak to me until a quarter past midday tomorrow. Good_night_!"

Kili glared at him in rebuke and then leaned back against the Dragon, yawning wide enough to invite an army of spiders and smacking his mouth before commenting, "I liked that stowy."

Smaug settled for burning holes in the ceiling with his searing gaze. Still, it was rather intriguing that the child would enjoy a tale where the Dwarf was the loser. Perhaps he would wait another day to kill this one. It would benefit the ignorant pup to learn a few pointers of Dragon lore.

A repulsive sniffling beside him distracted Smaug from his plans, and he scowled at the ragged mutt dripping tears onto his sleeve. "What is it _now_?"

"I wan-I want Mummy," Kili sobbed, ducking his head and wiping who-knows-what all over the elegant cut of Smaug's coat. "Can we go home now?"

Smaug sighed; this repeated question was getting rather dull, and he wished that they would invent a more creative and less demanding request. "No," he responded blandly. "Not until Thorin pays his due."

"Why d'you want Thorin anyways?" Fiwi murmured hostily, already half asleep - or losing consciousness, perhaps, but then again Smaug knew nothing of fragile mortal skulls.

"Because I hate him." The answer was so clear even such a mere a child could understand.

"Why?"

Smaug tensed like a bowstring and grunted in dismay, spitting out between clenched teeth, "Because I _do_, that is why! Now shut up and give me a few moment's peace before I see to it that you remain unconscious for a week!"

Perhaps that would be a wise course in the end. At least he could get a few minutes shut-eye without the bothersome twits grating on his nerves.

"D'you think Mummy misses us?" Kili whispered tremulously.

"Oh, undoubtedly," Smaug rolled his eyes. "As much as I shall mourn when I return you to your miserable Uncle Thorn."

"An' Mewy misses us, too?"

And the ... what? Smaug scrunched up his nose in perturb. Dwarves and their funny names; he would never understand their stalwart attempts to demean their children.

"Yes, I assure you; Mewy shall miss this era of peace when you return," he evaded diplomatically.

Satisfied with the answer, Kili nestled against the Dragon and yawned a final time, his eyelids drooping shut seconds before muted snores filled the cavern. Smaug blinked uncertainly for a minute before he realized he was effectively trapped by a Dwarf child on either side.

"Oh, by all the confounded, dispicable, outrageous %*^& %^!$#..." he grumbled. "Thorin had better have a higher opinion of those two nephews of his than these ones will earn from their blasted Uncle." Pity the Dwarf who had inherited them as relatives.

Tugging experimentally at his left arm and narrowing his eyes when the puppy only tightened his grip, Smaug settled back against the cave and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long night.


	8. Lists

"Can we _pwease_ go out an' play _nooow_?"

Ignoring the whelp was like paying no heed to the grating notes of an ill practiced fiddler. Smaug the Unmovable, however, was equally determined to prove as stubborn as the fidgeting twit.

"No," he refused languidly, fitting the last board onto his new shelf and thumping his fist on it to ensure it would hold sturdy this time. "You and your brother are not leaving this cave until I find some useful manner in which to sneak you into town."

Apparently his ingenious "anonymous" hint had set fire to the village and within two days the entire countryside knew that two "poor, helpless waifs" were in the hands of a horrible, deplorable, ugly (Elegant! Elegant, he kept screaming inside!) miser who intended to settle a personal score with the now legendary Thorin Oakenshield. Once the villagers learned of a handsome, sharply dressed Dragon parading around two children ... well, perhaps they would not expect _him_ to be the kidnapper, now that he thought about it, as Smaug was certainly **not** deplorable _**nor**_ ugly. Even so, the sniveling cowards might see fit to ruin his clever plans, and after all that he had endured Smaug was taking no chances.

"Unca Smaug?"

Curse the little brat for inventing the title after learning that his captor was the magnificent Dragon of his favorite new bedtime stories.

Smaug rolled his eyes and continued his work, mouthing, "_Unca Smaug, pwease, pwease, pwease can we_ ... Throw you in someone's coal cellar I will, you little insect. See if some pitying soul will be merciful to you and refrain from throwing you to the rats."

"Unca Smaug?" He could sense the pleading eyes boring into his skull.

"_Uncle Smaug_ is not here," Smaug replied testily. "You may address 'Smaug the Magnanimous' or 'Smaug the Supreme Ruler of Superior Intellect' or 'Smaug the Elegant' if you so choose."

Kili paused in befuddlement, his brow furrowing in concentration until he was nearly cross-eyed from the effort. "Smellegant?" he finally posed.

Smaug spasmed at the abhorrent title, thwacking his hand against the underside of the shelf and sending the board flying. "Can you retain nothing in that minuscule brain of yours?" he hissed, clutching his hand and bending over double at the uncomfortable sensation of _pain_.

Humans were so horribly vulnerable. How in the world did they manage to survive a month in their own world? So many pointy things and evil sticks. Smaug had burned his mouth on one of those revolting meat pies after learning that his useless mortal form required sustenance much sooner than a Dragon, and according to the 'Perfect and Pompous' Fiwi that was hardly an injury worth screaming over.

_Fiwi _was an enigma Smaug detested above all else. For having abnormally thick skulls accustomed to bopping one another's foreheads constantly, it had taken an eternity for Fiwi to overcome his headaches and nausea. Smaug had endured the scathing glares and clipped orders of the evil one for too long. According to Kili, he made too much noise, his graceful stride was too abrupt and hasty, and his voice was atrociously loud. Smaug was disgusted by the outcome. By no means should any Dragon in his right mind be forced to tip-toe!

It was outrageously indignifying, and as soon as he re-repaired this shelf Smaug would be putting the toothless pup away for the rest of his minuscule life. Perhaps the child could be a meager offering to the squirrels, who would carry him away to nibble on over the course of next winter. The poor creatures would likely mistake him for a missing member of their family and adopt him, of course, but at least Smaug would be free of the pestering nuisance.

"Unca Smaugelant?" Kili posed uncertainly, edging forward and tugging on the Dragon's pant leg. He glanced towards Smaug's smarting hand and his eyes welled up in compassion.

Without a word of forewarning to give the Dragon an opportunity to escape Kili wrapped his tiny arms around Smaug's leg, burying his face in the fabric and whispering, "I'sowy you hurted!"

"What - you - you little - " Caught off guard and uncertain _how _he had allowed himself to be captured by the mangy stray, Smaug gingerly shook his leg to dismantle the leech.

Mistaking the abrupt movement for a game, Kili giggled and wrapped his legs around Smaug's ankle to better maintain his grip. Smaug's snarl of disgust morphed quickly into a whimper of horror as the evil thing _would not let go!_ He braced himself against the wall and kicked out his leg sharply, only to succeed in eliciting further gasps of laughter from his captor.

"F- Fiwi!" Smaug screeched, now wildly shaking his leg in his frenzy to dispatch of the terror.

Fiwi glanced up from the sketches he was scratching into the wall with a sharp stone, mundanely appraising his tyrannical brother before turning back to his work. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Get it _off!_" Smaug insisted emphatically, spreading his arms out to maintain his balance.

Fiwi paused in his work, fixing the wobbling Dragon with a scathing glower. "Let us go home and I'll tell him to leave you alone."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Smaug snarled, blue fire flaring in his gaze as he stomped across the room, an energetic Kili crowing in ecstasy at each lurch.

"Higher, Unca Smaugelant! Higher!"

He should have squished the termite while he'd had the chance.

"Why are you so disagreeable?" Smaug looked towards Fiwi in perturb before scrounging through the growing mound of empty knapsacks and purses for something to entice the rabid terrier away. "Your brother worships me."

"Kili will get along with anyone who puts up with him," Fiwi snorted, not even sparing The Elite and Wondrous Smaug a glance. "And my name isn't Fiwi!" he added in a sharp tone, abruptly spinning to shoot daggers at Smaug's back with his gaze.

"What does your Mother call you?" Smaug retorted heatedly, "Furless, unappetizing salamander?"

"It's Fi_li_, _Smelly-ant_," Fili shot back. He might have taken his chances and thrown a rock at Smaug's head had not the Dragon spun around that instant in a pure rage.

"You disgraceful little urchin!" Smaug roared, smoke streaming from his flaring nostrils in tiny plumes as he clomped forward. "How DARE you incite such a title against _me_!"

Too late Fili realized that to bait a Dragon's wrath was only to entice death. He gasped and scrambled backwards until his back hit the cave wall, his gaze flickering in horror to his little brother who still clung to Smaug's leg like a vice.

Smaug had endured enough of the ungrateful, overconfident snob's taunts. The Dragonlet-in-Training would suit his plans very well, and he no longer felt he needed two to succeed in his plans. _One_ beastly otter was enough to deal with, and while the spider-imp was a whirlwind in disguise, at least it had learned a proper amount of respect for the Lofty and Regal _TRUE_ King of the Mountain.

Just as he was intending to strike the blond fiend out of existence an ear-piercing wail sent Smaug reeling into the wall, clutching his ears and spewing forth a thousand of the foulest oaths he could conjure.

"No!" Kili screamed, clinging to Smaug's leg for dear life and craning his neck to seek for his brother with wide, terrified eyes. "_No! No! No! _Don't hurt Fiwi! Don't hurt him!"

Smug grunted and clamped his hands tighter to block out the sound. "You conniving little - "

"He didna mean it!" Kili continued to wail, pressing his face against Smaug's leg and bursting into tears. "Don't hurt him, pwease!

"See?" the child pressed hopefully, looking up to the Dragon with red rimmed, stricken eyes, "I call you Unca Smaugelant! That's not Smellyant, innit? He - he got it mixed up! He didna mean it, Unca Smaugelant! Pwease, pwease don't hurt my bwother!"

The Dwarfling buried his face in his arm and sobbed as though his little heart was breaking. Smaug rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, breathing slowly so as not to incinerate the whimpering mongrel on the spot. This was becoming rather bothersome. Every time he intended to punish one of the petulant nuisances, the other suicidally determined to interfere.

He should really look into a proper exchange for the mongrels. Perhaps a couple of human children would be less troublesome. Maybe Thorin's nephews would prove such a nuisance that their guardian would be willing to trade them for a couple of rabbits? Somehow Smaug had the impression such a bargain would prove highly unlikely, and he sulked in discouragement..

"Pw_ease_, Unca Smaug?" the tiny terror continued to blubber, "I likes you, see? Fiwi'll like you too, he's just sick an' all. P_weeease _don't kill him!"

"_Distangle_ yourself," Smaug ordered pointedly, giving his leg a meaningful shake and glowering over the bridge of his elongated nose.

Kili only tightened his grip in response, shaking his head and smearing disgusting icky stuff that Smaug did _not _want to think about. The Dragon folded his arms and stared at the far wall, lifting his leg high up and down as to test the dexterity of the serpent's coils. How in the world did it manage to stay attached?

Contemplating the matter, Smaug realized with a ripple of agitation that he was losing track of his anger once more. How did the fiendish weasel manage to distract him so easily? He feared the creature's growing power of hypnotism might one day succeed his own, and the thought made Smaug hesitate to slay the brother. Perhaps some leverage to hold the evil one under control would be useful after all.

"_Fine_. I will not terminate Fi_**li**_ at this moment. However," Smaug added strictly as Kili's face lit up, "I will _not_ allow such insubordination to go unpunished. Your brother will have to suffer without dinner today. I will _not_ be going to town; I shall be nursing my bruised ego, rather."

"Yay!" Kili squealed, launching himself away from Smaug and darting forward to burrow into Fili's arms. The blond Dwarfling continued to stare hard at the Dragon in warning, holding his brother tightly as though he entertained the silly notion that he could protect him from The Merciless Smaug's infinite rage.

Smaug sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut until the urge to crush both insufferable termites faded. He should write a list to Thorin about the proper management of the children; that would give any Dwarf a headache to match Smaug's own.

_Item Number One: __Do __underestimate the power of the evil one's eyes._ Perhaps a few screaming bouts from precious Kili would impair Thorin's hearing forever. That was a relishing thought.

_Item Number Two: When Shelving the Dwarflings as punishment, ensure the boards __will __collapse. _After surviving two days of Kili hissing at him every time his elegant shoes squeaked, Smaug would give the blond tornado a concussion himself just to see his most hated enemy attempt to tiptoe in his clomping boots.

_Item Number Three: The littlest one must be fed exactly six times a day._ The silly little girl selling pastries was coming to expect Smaug at least once a day now. May she fall and break her pert, ugly nose. Her one redeeming factor was that she was so enamored by his presence that she gave him everything free.

_Item Number Four: The littlest one will eat anything __**if **__the eldest does not inspect it first._ Kili would scarf down the most vile, unappetizing foods that Smaug would never dirty his hands with, provided Fiwi - erm, Fi_**li**_ - did not turn up his nose and insist the Dragon find something more edible lest his brother be ill. _**Only **_because he did not want another two-day bout of concussion sickness did Smaug follow through with the disrespectful newt's wishes.

_Item Number Five: The littlest one requires __exactly__ three stories before he will sleep. He __will__ count them._

_Item Number Five Side Note: The stories must be about Dragons fighting against Dwarves, and the Dragon must win in the end._ The child's one redeeming factor. Smaug was beginning to rather enjoy storytime.

_Item Number __Seven __Six: Throw an axe at the blond one's head if the littlest one is being too quiet. The small one might be ill, and a reactionary test will prove if it has capable lung power to sustain it._

_Item Number Seven: If the blond one is being surly, take the puppy away. _Cuddling was _**not **_intended to be an "added charm" of punishment, however, but Kili seemed to have difficulty understanding that. Let the child strangle Thorin for a few minutes and see how willingly he would beg on his knees for Smaug to take them back.

_Item Number Eight: Boredom is inevitable._ Smaug was _**never**_ bored these days; market trips, sleeping, forcing down deplorable rubbish to keep his mortal body alive, and entertaining a rabid tiny terror was enough to run him ragged. (Not that he would ever admit that it was slightly ... intriguing to try and distract the littlest one with a single activity for more than ten minutes at a time.) However, give Thorin a day or two and he would be at a loss for how to handle the hyper-active twits.

_Item Number Nine: When finished being terrorized, return the street rats to their Mother._ Ah, the beautiful day when he would hear Thorin's screams followed by the solid _swish _of an ax skimming past his eternal foe's _most _unmajestic head.

Such thoughts were so pleasing to Smaug that he did not even notice Kili tugging on his coat and pleading softly, "Can we go outside _now_?"

"Of course, that will be the most delightful scheme of all," Smaug murmured, tapping his foot in the air and beaming at his brilliant plans.

Kili looked back and clapped his hands over his mouth to conceal a squeal of excitement before racing Fili out the door. It took Smaug a full minute to startle out of his dream world and realize with a surge of panic that both children were gone.


	9. Enigma

"Come _on_, Kili! The village is just this way!"

Fili urged his brother on, frequently glancing over his shoulder as though any minute Smaug would come loping down the hillside in swift pursuit. Grabbing Kili's arm Fili pulled his little brother along, ignoring the younger Dwarf's protests as his fuzzy caterpillar was left behind in their haste.

"Why're we running so _hard_?" Kili whined, lagging back and dragging his feet in protest.

"It's only a little ways," Fili promised. He paused a moment to sling his sullen brother onto his shoulders and grunted at the added weight. His pace was significantly slower now, even compared to the speed of a human child his age, and he feared the ramifications of Smaug's wrath should they not escape.

"But Unca Smaug doesn't want us ta wandah far!" Kili protested. He glanced back with a worried expression. "What if we lose him?"

"That's the point!" Fili ground out, panting hard for breath. "We have to get away from him, Kili. You know what he said about Uncle Thorin; he wants to use us to trap him!"

"But he wants Unca Thorn, not Thor'n," Kili pointed out, proud of his wisdom.

"Same thing," Fili rolled his eyes, "Only he doesn't know it yet. Once he finds out who our real Uncle is he'll kill us both – and Uncle Thorin, too."

"But – but – but he's a nice dragon!" Kili shook his head in horror. "Not like in all the stories. He wouldn't hurt us, wight, Fiwi?"

Fili's expression clouded and he squeezed Kili's hands in assurance to himself. Smaug would not hurt his little brother now; Fili swore to it. "As soon as we reach the village we can go home," he promised, purposely avoiding Kili's question.

"An' then we can see Mummy again?!" Kili exclaimed in exuberance. "An' Mewy an' Unca Balin an' Mistah Dwalin an' Unca Thor'n an Mewy, too?"

Fili grinned, his brother's enthusiasm contagious despite the seriousness of their plight. "Yes, Kili. We'll see them all again."

"An' Unca Smaugellant can come see us," Kili determined cheerfully.

Fili bit down on his lip to hold back his immediate reaction. "Sure, Kili," he said in a clipped tone.

"An' Unca Thorin can teach him how ta work the forge, cause he can blow fire an' then we won't hafta get firewood all the time! An then Mummy can – _Ooph_!"

Fili's boot caught on a branch at that moment, sending both him and Kili rolling head over heels. A tree halted Kili's tumble and the young Dwarf yelped and rubbed the back of his head, glaring scathingly at Fili for hurting him. With a groan Fili stumbled to his feet, brushing off his scraped knees and gingerly touching a hand to the lingering bruise on his forehead.

"I don't even know where we are anymore…" he murmured as he looked around.

"Fiwi, I'm hungry again," Kili grouched, stomping over and kicking a pinecone away. He folded his arms uncertainly, shivering slightly in the cool breeze. "Can we ask Unca Smaug nicely if he'll get us somethen' ta eat?"

"He won't give us anything no matter how nicely we ask," Fili sighed. "He'll only be more mad at us cause we ran away. Try and get it through your head, Kili; _he doesn't like us_."

"Maybe cause you call-ded him 'Smellyant," Kili suggested with a frown. "You should call him 'Smaugelant.' He likes that."

Fili shook his head and dropped the matter. It was no use arguing with Kili; once his brother made up his mind about something, there was no talking him out of it.

"I think ... maybe I can find my way out," Fili considered, turning around slowly and scanning the forest. He squinted into the distance, trying to pick out some landmark which would indicate they were close to the village. He had only gone there once before when Smaug had taken them, but he trusted that he could remember the path ... if only he could find it.

"Baby butterfly..." Kili gasped behind him, his eyes round and filled with wonder as he tracked a caterpillar inching its way up a tree.

Caught up in his own personal dilemma Fili did not notice his brother's boots swinging past his head as the Dwarfling adamantly tracked his escaping fuzzy quarry. Grunting in effort, his feet sliding on the soft green moss that his fingers dug into with spider-like tenacity, Kili wriggled up the limber sapling with a gleam in his eyes like a hound scenting out its prey.

It was furry and it was orange, and he wanted to pet it but it was running away. Kili didn't like it when things ran away. With a frown of disapproval he scrambled onto a higher branch. Fili would like to see the baby butterfly, too, Kili was sure. He decided he would take it home so Mummy could tell him how pwetty it was, an' then maybe it would grow into a big butterfly before Mewy ate it.

Just as his hand clasped around the caterpillar the skinny twig beneath Kili's foot gave way. He plummeted with a gasp, too scared to yelp as the ground rushed towards him and the air whistled in his ears.

Fili whirled upon hearing the crack and he shouted in terror, screaming his brother's name as he imagined Kili's broken, bloody body lying on the emerald grass. How would he tell Mum and Uncle Thorin that he'd killed his baby brother? How could he go back alone without Kili babbling silly nonsense to keep his mind distracted during the long walk? How could he -

Two black garbed arms reached out above Fili's head, long fingered hands instinctively closing around Kili as the tiny Dwarf fell into them with a muffled "Yowp!"

Fili let out a sob of relief, whirling to meet his brother's rescuer ...

Only to pale in horror when he looked up into the calloused visage of Smaug himself. Fili gulped and instinctively stepped back, breathing fast as he realized his little brother was now helpless at the mercy of the furious Dragon.

"Don't kill him, please don't kill him," he whispered over and over, pleading with his gaze for Smaug to have mercy just this once. Fili swore he would take whatever punishment the Dragon meted out, so long as Kili would not be harmed.

Holding Kili at arms' length, Smaug regarded the fear-struck Dwarf in his hands with cautious intrigue before glancing up at the broken tree limb and wrinkling his nose. Tucking Kili firmly under one arm like a package from the market he turned away and started the trek back to the cave. He ignored Fili completely, muttering to himself as he walked,

"Item Number Ten: _Do Not_ allow the littlest one to climb trees."

Fili gaped in befuddlement at the retreating back of the Dragon. Forcing himself to snap out of his daze he trotted after Smaug, looking up at him with perturb as he sought the rage he anticipated. Smaug appeared to be completely in his own world, paying no attention to either Dwarf as he tallied off some sort of count in his head.

At last Fili could stand the suspense no longer. He allowed a hint of belligerence in his words, wanting for the storm of anger to be over as soon as possible. "Aren't you going to yell at us for running away?"

Smaug glanced sharply down as if seeing Fili for the first time. "Did I not leave you behind in the forest?"

Fili cast him a scathing glower and Smaug clapped his mouth shut as though in disappointment. "Oh."

After a moment's silence the Dragon inquired, "Why are you still here?"

"Put my brother down." As though Fili would have ever left without Kili.

"Um... no," Smaug determined with an incline of his head. "He amuses me. - I mean, I need him. You may have him back when I am finished with my vengeance."

Fili's mind whirled with mystery and he regarded Smaug with a baffled stare, at a loss for an explanation for the Dragon's behavior. "Why haven't you killed us yet?"

"Should I?" Smaug asked with a raised eyebrow, genuinely curious.

Now Fili was stumped. Uncle Thorin had told him Dragons were dangerous; that they blew fire and murdered anyone for a few pieces of gold. He never mentioned anything like Smaug, though. He never explained how they could turn on you in an instant, or that they could be happy and cheerful and then annoyed, and then turn into a sappy self-imposed "guardian" the moment your little brother grabbed them around the leg. Thorin had never hinted that they could act reasonably ... nice, to quote Kili ... and act like running away from them was no big deal at all.

"Why aren't you angry with us?" Fili wondered aloud.

"I am angry," Smaug determined with a huff of irritation. "Very angry. Undeniably so. I am furious. I have never been so irked in my life."

"You sound kinda ... calm about it," Fili pressed.

Smaug considered this for a moment, switching a dazed Kili to his other arm and lengthening his stride so that Fili was forced to run to keep up.

"I have been led to wonder ... Why do Dwarves never leave their siblings?" Smaug posed unexpectedly. "It is so ... so stupid. Your brother is holding you up; why not leave him and be on your way?"

"He's my brother!" Fili protested in horror. "I can't just leave him here!"

"Why not?" Smaug rallied, spinning around and walking backwards as he spoke. "He is a useless puppy who sits around and speaks silly little whimsical words until he leans too far back and falls on his head. What _use _do you have for him?"

"I don't need a use for him," Fili rebuked, startled at the very thought. "He's my brother. I love him just because of that."

Smaug shook his head and scrunched up his nose at the answer. "Dwarves are so stupid." He twirled on his heel and proceeded to ignore the blond shadow trailing after him.

"So why do you keep _us _around?" Fili parried. "We just cause you trouble; we run away and we fall out of trees, and you said yourself that Kili is useless. Why not let us go home?" He did not dare ask, _Why haven't you decided to kill us now and be done with it?_

"Hm. I have not decided whether you are completely useless yet," Smaug answered languidly. He repeated, "You amuse me. Life gets to be so dull in my mountain. There is so little to _do_ once you have re-categorized the treasury five hundred and sixty-three times. I even tried rearranging and organizing it a good six times now; do you realize how many _years_ that takes?"

Fili shook his head and shrugged.

Smaug t'ched in disappointment. "Try to wrap your pitiful mind around that and then we will talk."

Another pressing question bothered Fili and he asked before he could stop himself, "What happens if we stop being ... amusing ... to you?"

Smaug rolled his eyes as though affronted by such an simple-minded question. "Then I suppose I shall have to kill you; provided Thorin does not agree with my terms."

"And ... until then?"

Smaug paused as though he had not considered that avenue. Plucking Kili out from under his arm he held the rumpled Dwarf at eye level and scrutinized him as though inspecting a curious species of insect.

"I found-ed a baby butterfly," Kili chittered excitedly, completely oblivious to the conversation. He held out his cupped hands to show Smaug a fuzzy orange and black caterpillar.

Smaug regarded it with scornful bemusement before shifting Kili to one hand and using the other to close the young Dwarf's hands over his precious pet. "Until then," he mentioned off-handedly to Fili as he tucked Kili back under one arm, "I have business in town. The littlest one is going to be blasting my ears off with his petulant whining if he is not fed."

Fili could not wrap his mind around the turn of events and his head hurt from trying to understand. He trotted to catch up, listening to Smaug rally off to himself a list of items he needed in town. They were not returning to the cave, and Fili wondered how absent minded Dragons were compared to his Uncle's tales.

A part of him said he should take advantage of Smaug's flippant tendencies and be grateful that he was still alive. Fili liked things to make _sense_, however, and Smaug made no sense at all. He could not comprehend the Dragon's mood swings or predict how to act accordingly, and that worried him most of all. How could he expect that both he and his brother would survive this ordeal, when the only thing standing between them and a temperamental fire-breathing monster was a missing letter in their Uncle's name?


End file.
